


Dry Bones on Damp Soil

by StrangeBlue



Series: Way Out There Be Dragons [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Best Friends, Dawnguard DLC, Don't copy to another site, Dragonborn is still taking in strays, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Absent Parents, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Inigo still hates Nordic Tombs, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Relationships, Profanity, Rating May Change, Serana gets unofficially adopted seconds in, Somebody please give her a hug, Wibbly Wobbly Elder Scrolls Stuff, past trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23862697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangeBlue/pseuds/StrangeBlue
Summary: The Dragonborn gets called to action yet again, two years after defeating Alduin. The real challenge with this one is keeping herself from adopting this vampire into her family. And from drop kicking both her parents into the depths of Oblivion.
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn & Inigo the Brave, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn & Lucien Flavius, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn & Serana, Inigo the Brave & Lucien Flavius
Series: Way Out There Be Dragons [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719367
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	1. Just Bring Her Home By 8

“Ah shit.”

Ghorsha hissed in pain, cradling her hand to her chest which only half a second ago _didn’t_ have a gaping hole going through it. She was normally pretty good about spotting traps and warning the boys, but this round she’d pulled a stupid one and thought nothing of pushing the big button in the center of the room surrounded by skeletal remains. 

So perhaps the spike that impaled her through the palm came as a bit of a hubris check. Something to remind her that she was in no way exempt from dungeon crawling hazards, no matter how much experience she had under her belt. She’d certainly dealt with worse, but _Malacath’s hairy_ _balls_ that hurt.

“Are you alright?” asked Lucien, rushing over. “Let me see.”

She gladly held her hand out as a familiar warm glow radiated from her friend’s hands, wincing at the sensation of tendons and muscle knitting back together where they’d been skewered. In seconds the skin closed, leaving a dull ache and tightness where there should have been a scar.

“There we go, all better!”

“Er, my friend,” Inigo cut in, voice cracking in his nervousness. “There’s something you should be aware of. Right now.”

While Nordic ruins had her Khajiit friend uneasy at the best of time and shrieking like a little girl at the worst, this strange cavern in particular sent him into a new level of jumpy. She didn’t blame him, the beastial statues here looked like they’d come alive at any moment. Still, it was a first to look up and see his blue tail positively ker-fluffed in fear. She didn’t blame him, for the floor was suddenly alight with what she assumed to be purple flames.

“Fascinating. I’ve never seen or read anything about this in a Nordic ruin before,” said Lucien, turning from her to examine the light more closely. “What kind of magic is this? And what are these braziers for?”

“Perhaps they are a sign that we should leave- let’s go,” Inigo again interjected. “I don’t like this place. It’s different from the other crypts, like it’s something much worse.”

Ghorsha hummed in agreement, but still stepped up to one of the bowls. She gripped it by the handles, jiggling it in place like a locked door. It neither turned, nor lifted.

“There’s something those vampires wanted out of here,” she said, pushing the bowl on the track. It grated forward on its own, settling in the next slot down. “But I feel it too. We’ll leave soon. Let’s see what this ancient puzzle does.”

“Something bad.”

“Something exciting!”

She slid the standing basin where the strange light ended and watched the dead embers within light up with the same strange fires. The floor opened a crack and more light spewed out from below, creating a path across the floor in another direction.

“Ah, so that’s how it works then,” she said. “Inigo, can you grab that next one?”

“Okay. But just to let you know, this is against my better judgement.”

The three of them shuffled each basin around the circle, watching as the floor flooded with the curious light. It created an obvious pattern, almost as though it were a seal of some sort. When the last brazier was set, the floor shifted under their feet and the bowls pushed back to the far outer circle as the center pedestal rose into a column with a noise like wind on stone.

Instinctively, Ghorsha’s hand shot from her side to take the hilt of Dawnbreaker, pulling it from her hip. But before any of them could properly react, the stone monolith opened like a vertical slot. 

The Dragonborn… did not know how to react. She had expected the contraption to open a door, perhaps awaken the local dead, maybe even stir up another dragon priest. She was _not_ expecting a woman to fall out, collapsing in a heap on the floor. Neither did her friends, who both seemed too flabbergasted to voice their shared confusion, save for a small “what?” eventually squeaked out of Lucien as she crouched down to examine her.

But just as she reached down, the woman’s eyes fluttered open and she shot up from her place on the floor, swaying on her feet. Without thinking, Ghorsha took her by the shoulders in a gentle grip to steady her. Shocking enough, the stranger didn’t try and swat her hands away.

“Where… where is-” she stammered, cradling her head. “Who sent you here?”

“A man named Isran, from the Dawnguard,” said Ghorsha. She let go of her, backing away to give her some air.

“Who? What’s the Dawnguard?” she asked. “Is he- are they like me?”

Now that she could see her in full under the natural light hailing from above, the Dragonborn realized what she was alluding to. Eyes like brimstone and skin pale as the snow. Isran had warned her before she left what to look out for in public places, now she could clearly see.

“A vampire,” she finished. “No, they’d actually have me kill you.”

“So, not too fond of us then. Well, if you kill me then you’ve killed one vampire, I suppose,” she said. “But can you hear me out first?”

“Would have been five, actually. But my direct orders were to _investigate_ this place. Not clear it out.”

From behind her, she could feel her friends’ desperate stares at her back. Begging to know what in Oblivion she was doing. Beneath her helmet, Ghorsha eyed the young woman with suspicion, but held on. Despite the knowledge that vampires possessed an unmatched level of charisma, she still waited to best judge the situation. From her time spent adventuring, she learned that letting something play out often had one gaining rather than losing. That said, caution was key and she still had plenty of silver bolts if this went south.

“Huh, good to know then,” she said, almost smiling. “But here’s the thing, if people are looking for me then something bigger must be going on. I can help you find out what that is.”

Oh. Oh well that changed quite a bit then. Especially once the golden scroll strapped to her back caught the light and Ghorsha remembered visions of star charts, past mistakes, and a Thu’um laced with Man’s hatred towards their godly masters.

“Is there… somewhere you need to be?” she asked, eyeing the gods’ equivalent of a diary with the utmost contemplation.

With an elder scroll it wasn’t so much as how a person acquires one as it is that the ‘Kel’ acquires you. It was never anywhere or anywhen without without a why. So why then, was it in the here and now?

“There’s an island, west of Solitude. My family lived there. I would guess they still do,” she explained.

Ghorsha glanced behind her, at her two friends. While the new helmets they’d received hid their expressions, she could tell by the hiked up shoulders and twitching tails that they were anxious and a bit lost. However, she knew that they trusted her judgement and would follow her anywhere. In turn, she trusted them in the event that something went wrong.

“Alright, we’ll take you there,” she said. “I’m Ghorsha by the way. These two are my friends: Inigo and Lucien.”

She held her hand out to shake and the woman took it in a firm hold, lips curling to reveal a fanged smile.

“Serana.”

Despite the level of distrust between both parties, the four helped each other each step of the way as they made it out of the crypt. Ghorsha and Inigo sniped the unsuspecting draugr from afar, while Serana and Lucien hailed powerful spells down on the ones that got too close to where they were perched. By the time they reached the end of the ruins, they were beginning to get a rhythm down. 

Outside, the day was new and the sun was high against the snow covered bluffs. Ghorsha stretched her shoulders and sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. Behind her, Inigo let out a sigh of relief, visibly resisting the urge to lean down and kiss the soil. Lucien peeled off his helmet and rolled his sword arm in its socket, before taking a leather journal from his pack and jotting down notes in charcoal.

“Woah it’s- really bright out here.”

The Dragonborn turned, looking back into the mouth of the cave where Serana stood lingering. She saw her tug a dark hood over her eyes and reach up to shade them further, wincing away from the sunlight. Without giving it a second thought, she stuck her fingers between her teeth and let out a shrill whistle. Two horses, Inigo’s and hers, came running up the hill.

While her friend chatted between themselves and adjusted Frost’s tack to fit them both, Ghorsha rifled through her saddle bag and pulled out her old cloak, shaking it out. She walked over to Serana and held it out for her to take.

“Here, this should help,” she said.

Serana nodded in thanks, throwing the cloak over her shoulders. It hung loosely over her smaller figure, the clasp resting below her collarbone and the hood swallowing her head. Still, it was a dark, solid color and hid her bare hands and nose from the sun where her previous one fell short.

“It’s nice, thank you,” she said. “We should get going, I think.”

“Sure thing,” replied Ghorsha. “Do you want to walk or ride?”

“I’d rather stretch my legs, if you don’t mind.”

“Whatever you want. Just let any of us know if you need a break.”

* * *

“This is where you live?” asked Lucien, head darting around in wonder. “It’s amazing!”

The great, crumbling keep stood tall and imposing on the sea, taking up the whole island, save for an archer’s tower towards its front. Bonehawks, the eyes and ears of more powerful covens, circled above their heads like buzzards. Several gargoyles perched along its steps, like sleeping guard dogs waiting for the unsuspecting intruder. It was truly a sight to behold now and must have been magnificent long, long ago.

“Yep. Home sweet- castle,” said Serana. “Listen, before we get in there…”

“Are you doing alright?” asked Ghorsha, pulling the wooden boat further up the bank. Inigo still sat inside, reclining his head and crossing his legs.

“Yeah, I think so. Thanks for asking. I just wanted to say- thanks. For getting me this far. And I know that your Dawnguard might want to kill everything in here, but I’m hoping you have more self restraint than that,” she said.

“Cross my heart,” the Dragonborn replied. “Would you rather it was just me who went with you?”

“Yeah. Yeah I think that would be best. No offense to your friends, of course,” she said.

Lucien let out a small noise of disappointment, while Inigo couldn’t have looked more relieved. Ghorsha nodded to them both in a silent command to standby, before turning to catch up to the vampire princess. The front gate rolled up to let them through and she heard a commotion call out from the guard.

She peeled off the cavernous cloak the Dragonborn had given her, folding into a square and holding it out for her to take back. Ghorsha gently pushed it towards her, indicating that it was hers to keep.

“Thanks. Just let me do the talking, alright?” said Serana.

“Zipped lips.”

Then they both disappeared behind the great doors, the potent, metallic smell of blood wafting from within the dark hall.

Meanwhile, the two companions hung around the old boat, pacing and kicking up the coastal gravel below their feet before settling in the wooden tub as they waited for their friend.

“Do you think we should have gone in after her?” asked Lucien, bouncing his legs over the side of the boat.

Inigo looked up from cleaning his sword, staring at the castle and suppressing a shudder. 

“I believe our friend is capable of many things, including facing down a bunch of bloodsuckers. I’d rather not have to go in there, but I will if I have to.”

“So you think she’ll be alright?”

“Call it a gut feeling. Mr. Dragonfly seems to like Miss Serana so far. I do not think she would take Ghorsha with her if there wasn’t a reason.”

“You think that- no that can’t be it,” Lucien cut himself off.

“What’s that?”

“It’s just that- do you think Serana’s _afraid_ of her family?”

“If I was her parents I’d be more worried than anything else. Unless vampires work like slaughterfish and eat their young.”

That mental image was revolting, unnecessary, and not helping. Lucien jolted up to his feet, walking over towards the bridge.

“I think I’m going to head inside after her- I can’t take it.”

Inigo stood as well, but instead to stop him. But as he did so, the air in front of the bridge began to shimmer and warp. Unsure what to expect, they both readied their weapons. But instead of a daedra popping from Oblivion, the Dragonborn herself staggered through, backpedaling as though thrown. They both managed to catch her by the shoulders just before she fell flat on her butt.

“What happened?”

The Dragonborn pulled off her helmet, letting it fall to the ground. She had a dazed expression on her face as her eyes adjusted to the light. She blinked hard, processing what just happened before weakly smiling up at them both.

“So her father seemed pleasant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still very bored and homebound. Why not have more Orc Mom Dragonborn stuff since people liked the last bit I wrote? Feedback is much appreciated.


	2. This Garden of Thorns, This House of Cards

“It really was beautiful, once,” said Serana as she parted the gnarling bushes.

Even from the other side of the garden, the Dragonborn could see the telltale flash of purple nightshade flowers, desperately trying to reach the sun through the choking thorns. They were all that was left of a once extensive botanical garden. Her fingers sifted through an empty plant box as she searched, revealing dark, rich soil that would still be amazing for potting. It must have been glorious. Enough to make her greenhouse and garden at Lakeview look like a child’s sandbox in comparison. What a shame it had now fallen into such a state of neglect.

“I would spend hours here, with my mother. Reading and helping her with the garden.”

“Did you grow anything for the table, or just for alchemy?”

“Only a little, most of it went towards her laboratory. She could make poisons strong enough to down a giant and potions powerful enough to revive the dead.”

“Impressive. It sounds like you two were close,” she said.

Even from atop the crumbling stone porch she was searching, she heard the lonesome sigh that followed and felt her mood drop a tier.

“Yeah, we were. Like best friends,” she replied. “Until…”

Ghorsha picked up a shimmering moon phase as she listened, before leaping down over the railing into the courtyard below and setting it in its proper place on the dial. Then she walked over to where Serana stood, her hands still searching through the black thorns. She placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, no. It could’ve been important. She just- began shooing me away. Telling me she was too busy. It was like a switch flipped. And... I was left wondering what I did wrong.”

The Dragonborn didn’t miss the shake in her voice, feeling something twist deep in her chest. Before she could find the words, Serana continued.

“I think she was up to something in here. Something she didn’t want anyone to know about. There has to be clues somewhere in this garden.”

Ghorsha nodded in agreement, but found herself left with the image of a younger girl, despite her curse leaving her unchanged for eras. Just a young thing wandering the halls of this dark castle and the only person she seemed to look up to driving her out of this sanctuary. Having been in the main hall only once, she could easily imagine that it grew quite stuffy and crowded if any of those other vampires had been there at the time.

“And your father? Harkon?”

There was no response, for quite some time. She worried that she had offended her or brought up a bad memory.

“Couldn’t go to him for anything. We weren’t very close at all, then he was obsessed with that prophecy and Mother treated me more like a protege. I can’t help but feel like they-” she cut herself off as she pulled something from the ground, a moon dial piece covered in earth. “Here’s one.”

She held it out to her and the Dragonborn took the wrought iron frame one hand. But instead of turning towards the centerpiece, she reached out and took hold of her arm before Serana could walk away.

“Serana.”

“I just feel like I was- was a means to an end. Or a pawn. To them,” she stammered out, clenching her fists in her cloak. Her hands were covered in damp earth and red streaks where the thorns had snagged her fingers in her search.

Ghorsha quickly let go to peel off her helmet, tucking it under her arm. Serana stayed put, but didn’t meet her gaze.

“Serana, how ‘bout you meet my family?”

Her eyes fluttered in surprise and she turned her head up to look at her. The Dragonborn smiled softly, despite herself.

“That’s… wow. I didn’t know you had a family. I just thought it was you and…”

“Inigo and Lucien are my friends. But they’re part of the family too.”

The three of them had to disperse on account of their own individual duties as members of the Dawnguard. The Volkier Clan was becoming more aggressive in their attacks, prompting lesser covens to try their luck at night raids as well. She was sad to see them go, but knew that they could handle themselves. That said, she must’ve brewed at least ten cure disease potions to divide between them both, knowing that there was always a chance they could get infected.

“Thank you. For offering, I mean. I just- I don’t know. What are they like, if you don’t mind me asking? How would they feel about you having a vampire come in?”

“I don’t think you need to worry that much. We’re a very accepting household. I have a daughter and a housecarl who I consider a close friend living at the house right now. There’s a little bit of everything going on there.”

“Huh. I’ll uh, I’ll give it some thought. But I don’t know, right now.”

“That’s alright. You don’t need to give me an answer. Just…” she took a deep breath, reaching again for her shoulder, but stopped herself. “Just know that you’re always welcome under my roof. That if nothing else, you’ll be-”

Words failed her in that moment. She just didn’t know what would be the right thing to say without scaring her off or driving her away. All the things she wanted to tell this lonesome girl with the face of a near child were locked away in her throat as silent promises.

_Loved. Taken care of. Accepted. I’d never let you be lonely again. You’d never be locked away or abandoned or used._

“Never mind. We should keep going. It’s gonna get dark and I don’t know if those bone hawks circling above us’ll snitch.”

“You’re right, let’s keep looking.”

The moon dial piece they’d first found had to be rinsed off before it could fit in its place on the ground, the mud clogging the holes where the rivets were supposed to screw in. As the Dragonborn was cleaning it in the old fish pond, a similar shimmer caught her eye and she pulled out another moon phase, covered in algae. 

As the two were being set, she caught Serana staring into the fenced alchemical garden again, her expression impassive beneath the heavy cloak’s hood. Ghorsha knew it must have meant a lot to her, perhaps one of the few hobbies she was allowed in a place like this. Divines know her own garden was a great labor of love; she couldn’t even imagine tending to one for hundreds, if not thousands of years.

“Hey,” she caught her attention. “If you want, I can grab some cuttings on the way outta here. There’s some better spots out there for those poor plants than here.”

For the first time in awhile, maybe the first time in general, she saw Serana give her a real, genuine smile. It was brief and slight, but it was there.

“That would be nice, thank you.”

She smiled beneath her helmet and nodded once, setting the last moon phase in its proper place with an audible click. Then she stepped back as the great dial shifted and spun, taking the stone tile beneath with it. She watched each step lower into a neat spiral, a hidden stairwell leading further into the depths of the castle. Once the grating of stone finally stopped, she stepped forward and stretched her arms out in a gesture towards the passage.

“Shall we then?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyy, dialogue is less stiff this round. I hope I'm doing Serana a justice, I've never considered myself that good at writing canon characters. Lemme know if I somehow missed the mark.


	3. Two Bros

“Auriel’s Bow…”

Inigo hummed in agreement at Lucien’s musing, though not quite listening entirely as he leaned his head back and began dozing off. 

“Far back in history, it was said that Auriel used the weapon to rip out Lorkan’s heart and shoot it into the sea, right where the Red Mountain would later spring up.”

“Fascinating, my friend,” he mumbled, catching his head before it bobbed back.

“It’s also said to smell a bit like ash yams.”

“Mhm.”

“You’re not even listening, are you?”

“I’m just a bit tired.”

The two of them had come across each other while passing through Eastmarch, having completed their individual assignments as members of the Dawnguard and were now reporting back to Riften. On the way, they set up camp in the hot springs and took the rare opportunity to relax within the hot mineral broths between the geysers.

They sat across from one another, Inigo desperately fighting off sleep and Lucien writing a letter against a stray slab of wood he’d found on the road. 

After having been forced to stay up through the night riding back from the swamps of Morthal while watching his back for stragglers, it was no wonder that Inigo was so tired. Lucien had been a bit luckier, his assignment being stationed within Whiterun’s walls, with only one target he needed to deal with.

“Was it really that bad?”

“I tried to keep a tally, but it was a pretty big group of bloodsuckers. Some of their thralls chased me all the way into the Pale. Luckily, I am a very good shot on horseback.”

“I’m sorry Inigo. If I wasn’t on my own assignment I would’ve helped.”

“It is fine. How did your mission go?”

“He was pretending to be a bard, but he wasn’t a very good singer,” he explained. “I couldn’t convince him to leave the city, but at least when nighttime rolled around I was able to corner him.”

He sighed something deep, pulling Inigo from his state of drowsiness with his sudden drop in mood. He sat up to see that Lucien had stopped writing, instead staring off into space. The candlelight spell bobbing between them had long flickered out, leaving the two in near total darkness, save for the light of the moons.

“I almost got caught, though. Sneaking’s never been my strongest suit.”

“Sounds like you had a ripe opportunity to put your skills to the test and you pulled through. That’s very good,” he said. “Could you bring the light back? I can’t see.”

As a Khajiit he could actually see just fine, but he would rather pull Lucien from his slump than watch him sit in the dark with his thoughts. Peace of mind, and all that.

“Sorry!”

He closed his palm into a fist, letting the magicka within ball up, before releasing it with an audible snap of air. The white ball of light bounced across the bubbling water, before settling just short of his crossed legs.

“I just worry, is all. These vampire attacks seem to be only getting worse with each passing week. What happens if we can’t stop them?”

Were he not so stiff and sore from sitting in a saddle from sunset to the crack of dawn, Inigo would have reached over and clapped a hand on his shoulder in a friend’s gesture of comfort. Instead he batted the candlelight spell towards him, watching it bounce off his arm.

“We cannot worry about something that hasn’t even happened yet. It won’t lead to anything, my friend. Ghorsha and Serana are already off looking for the last scroll we need. I am confident they’ll find it one way or another,” he said. “Plus, if Auriel’s Bow is as powerful as you say it is, then I know that this is something we can overcome.”

“Ah, so you were listening then?”

“Of course!”

He wasn’t. 

“Thanks Inigo. How do you always know just what to say?”

“Experience, my friend.”

“So you’re an  _ old man _ , then?”

“Erm, no,” he replied, scratching his chin and suppressing a smile.

If their friend were with them right now, he was certain she would be howling with laughter, say something lightly teasing, before heading off to bed. 

_ “If Inigo’s gray through experience, surely I’m balding through you both.” _

Never counting the fact that she was Dragonborn, only what life itself threw her way. Because that was the kind of person she was, coming down to your level when the gods demanded she rise above.

He hoped she was doing alright, she always hated traveling without them.

Sudden sloshing in the water between them caught his attention and he looked up to see Lucien getting out and reaching for a towel.

“I’m going to bed, there’s no use writing in the dark even with a light.”

“Sure, rest well,” he called after him.

Not but two seconds later, the candlelight spell fizzled out again, leaving Inigo blinking to adjust his eyes to the darkness surrounding him.

An eternity of looking at the world like this? He didn’t even want to think of the idea. There was no way the world would stand for it, chaos would ensue. And with the attacks growing more aggressive, it was only a matter of time before something had to give. They couldn’t let it come to that.

“Hurry, my friend,” he whispered against the night, rising up from the waters to take first watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graduation is fast approaching and I am Stressed. Writing has been the only thing keeping me sane.


End file.
